


Julia One Shots/Drabbles

by Itica_writes



Category: Dark Shadows (2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27918199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itica_writes/pseuds/Itica_writes
Summary: A collection of stuff I write for Julia. Chapters titled with a dialogue prompt are less than 400 words.
Relationships: Angelique Bouchard Collins/Julia Hoffman, Julia Hoffman/Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, Julia Hoffman/Reader, Julia Hoffman/Victoria Winters
Kudos: 20





	1. "Go back to sleep." (Julia/Reader)

You weren’t sure what made you wake up, but when you opened your eyes you realized you were in the sitting room. Your head was resting in Julia’s lap on the couch, and you didn’t even need to look out the window to see night had long since fallen. Glossy pink nails raked through your hair soothingly. You turned your head to look up at her. Her other hand was holding a book, and she had her elbow propped on the arm of the couch to read it. You didn’t mean to fall asleep on her, but she didn’t seem to be annoyed.

“Should I get up?” Before she even answered you were making to rise, but her hand gently eased you back down.

“No, honey, just go back to sleep.” She resumed playing with your hair, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed again.


	2. Imagine Julia drunkenly confessing her feelings for you

You walked into the sitting room to find Julia sprawled out on the couch like a cat. Her shoes had been kicked haphazardly on the floor, and in her hand was a nearly empty glass of whiskey. At the sound of the doors closing behind you, her eyes drifted up to meet yours.

“Hey, you.” She slurred.

“You sound drunk.” You said, a trace of humor evident in your voice. She snorted.

“Oh honey, when am I not drunk?” She downed the last of her glass and made to stand up. The effort was a little clumsy, and when she did make it to a stand she swayed a little. She stared at the ground for a moment, lips pursed in concentration as she regained her sense of balance, then reached for the bottle to pour another glass. You grabbed it before she could close her fingers around it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said. “You can barely stand as it is.”

“But,” She pointed a finger at you. “I can still stand. Therefore, I need more.” She reached for the bottle but you kept it out of her reach. Annoyed, she reached again, this time stumbling forward and falling into you. You were forced several steps backwards, but somehow managed to stay standing and keep a grip on the bottle. However Julia, her senses dulled by the alcohol, lost her grip on the glass in her hand. It fell to the ground, shattering on impact.

“Oops.” She said flatly.

“Jesus, Julia. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

She didn’t protest as you wrapped an arm around her, maneuvering her around the mess and out of the room.

She was leaning on you heavily, and you half expected the both of you to tumble to the ground in the middle of the hallway, but you made it to her room without incident. Once there, you carefully sat her down on the bed.

“I know you like your liquor, Julia, but I think you may have taken it just a little too far tonight.” You said. You noticed some stray hairs around her face and tucked them back into place.

“You care too much.”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m gonna go get you some water.” You turned to walk out.

“I can tell you like me, you know.” She said. You turned back towards her. She had leaned back on the bed, propping herself on her elbows, and had that look on her face. Analytical, somehow knowing and curious at the same time, with just a touch of smugness. She often made that face when she was psychoanalyzing someone. Even drunk, she knew her work.

“Its easy to see the signs,” She went on, “If you know what you’re looking for. There’s the obvious things, the goofy grins, the blushing, the surplus of compliments.” She sighed, looking at the ceiling. “But then there's… well, there’s the less obvious things.” She let her gaze drop back to you. “The things you kinda have to look for.” Suddenly she stood up, and for a second you were worried she’d fall over. She took a step towards you. “The way you lean in when I talk.” Another step. “The way you always look at me when you laugh in a room full of people.” Another step. “Not a lot of people actually know that one, that you look at the person you most like when you laugh.” She was right in front of you now, close enough that you could smell the whiskey on her breath. She reached out a hand to stroke your hair, twirling a single strand around her fingers. “Of course, it could just be me.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. Of course, she had been right. You had been harboring feelings for her for awhile now, almost since you met her. And you had prepared yourself that she would find out, how could she not in her line of work? But was this… doubt?

“Well I could just be making up what I want to see. Maybe you’re not actually doing any of those things.” She let the strand of hair fall through her fingers. “Maybe I just really, really want you to lean in” She whispered. She looked into your eyes, then at your lips. You saw her own lips twitch. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Your mind was reeling. She knew you liked her, except… She didn’t? She thought she was confusing her own feelings with yours. Of course there was always the chance that this meant nothing. That this was simply the ramblings of a drunk woman, but you doubted it. 

You smoothed your hands over her shoulders. You wanted so terribly to kiss her, to tell her it was alright, that you were glad she told you and that you did like her and how overjoyed you were that she felt the same. But you couldn’t. Not right now, not like this, when she probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow.

“I think we should continue this in the morning.” You finally said. She nodded, and you guided her back to the bed. Right when you turned to leave, she grabbed your hand.

“Wait. Could you just… Stay? For a little while?”

You nodded. “Of course.” You laid down on the bed next to her and she cuddled into you. You gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she murmured something you couldn’t hear. You closed your eyes, stroking her hair, hopeful for what the morning would bring.


	3. Imagine waking up with Julia (Part 2 to Imagine Julia drunkenly confessing her feelings for you)

When you woke up, there was a moment when you didn’t remember where you were. You weren’t in your room - the bed linens were different than your own - and something was weighing down the left side of your body. You felt something soft brush against your cheek, and the mystery was solved when turned your head to see bright orange curls of hair. So you were in Julia’s room, and the weight was Julia herself. She was tucked into your side, pressed as close to you as she could be without actually being on top of you. Your left arm was snaked underneath and around her, the telltale tingling sensation letting you know that the two of you had been laying like this quite a while, long enough for your arm to fall asleep. You couldn’t see her face from this angle, but her soft snores let you know she had yet to wake up. Memories of the night before came flooding back. Broken glass, stumbling steps, slurred words. Her confession. You wondered if she would remember any of it. Or if she meant it. Your stomach pinched unpleasantly. It had seemed so genuine, so undeniable in the heat of the moment, but the light of morning brought cold clarity. She had been drunk. Very drunk. You couldn’t help but wonder if any of it meant anything at all.

You suddenly felt the need to leave. She couldn’t wake up to the two of you like this. It was too intimate. Besides, she had only asked you to stay a little while, not the entire night. You carefully untangled yourself from her, a task made difficult by how closely she held you. Like a child clutching their teddy bear to keep the nightmares at bay. You managed without waking her, nonetheless. You rose from the bed and tip toed towards the door, wincing at the bite of the cold floor on your bare feet. Your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, turning slowly.

“Where are you going?”

Her voice was deeper than usual, rough and gravelly from sleep. It went straight to your stomach, loosening the pinch of anxiety. You released the doorknob and turned to face her. Her hair was a mess, the normally carefully stylized curls ruffled, and her makeup was slightly smudged. She had sat up in the bed and was staring at you drowsily, but there was an intensity behind her gaze you didn’t fail to notice.

“I…” You trailed off. You didn’t know where you were going. Just away from here, from her, but you couldn’t tell her that. She’d get the wrong impression. She’d be hurt, think it was something to do with her. Which, in all honesty, it was, but it wasn’t her fault.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You asked instead.

“Not all of it,” She drew a breath before her next words, “but I do remember the important parts.”

You nodded and looked at the ground, waiting for her to say what you’d been dreading. That none of it was true. That people say crazy things when they’re drunk, and intoxication and loneliness don’t make for a good combination. Looking at the polished wood floor, you wished you could just melt onto it, because a puddle doesn’t have a heart to break.

You heard the bed creak, and then footsteps padding across the floor. You still didn’t look up, even when she was right in front of you.

“I don’t know what all I said last night,” she began softly.

Here it comes, you thought.

“But I do know… I meant every word.”

You whipped your head to look up at her. There was vulnerability in her eyes, something you didn’t often see. This was a huge risk for her. You had to show her she wouldn’t regret it.

You took a step closer. “Even the part about…wanting me to lean in?”

“Especially that part.” She whispered.

So you did lean in, slowly, and when you couldn’t stand to wait another second, you kissed her. Everything you had wanted to say the night before was put into that kiss, and when you pulled away, you knew when you looked in her eyes. She understood.


	4. Imagine confessing your feelings to Julia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a nsfw portion.

You walked into the sitting room to find Elizabeth pouring herself a drink. Upon your entry, she pulled out a second glass.

“Want some?” She asked, showing you the bottle.

“Sure.” You glanced around the room. “Where’s Julia?”

“Upstairs, packing her things, I’d imagine.” She answered as she filled the glasses.

“She’s leaving?” You asked, perplexed. That couldn’t be right. Julia would never just leave. Right? You felt an unpleasant pinch in your chest.

“I’ve decided to let her go. She’ll be out of Collinsport come tomorrow morning.” She strode over and offered you your drink, but you didn’t take it. Anger and panic shot through you at her words.

“You fired her?” Your voice came out more shrill than you intended, and you forced yourself to swallow.

She sighed, throwing the hand that wasn’t holding a drink up in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know what you expected. It’s been nearly a year and she hasn’t made an inch of progress with David. I have to find someone else.”

“She’s like family, Lizzie!” You protested.

“No, she’s a shitty doctor with a drinking problem. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.” She seemed almost bored at the subject, like it wasn’t worth her time.

“Damn you. She’s not leaving this house.” You seethed. Ignoring her shocked expression, you stormed out of the room, heavy doors slamming behind you as you went in search of Julia.

Just as Elizabeth had said, Julia was upstairs in her room, packing nearly folded clothes into a suitcase. You burst through the door without knocking, startling her.

“You’re leaving.”

She resumed packing her things. “I have to. Your sister is kicking me out.”

“And you’re just letting her?”

She slammed her suitcase shut, turning to look at you incredulously. “What exactly do you expect me to do? The only thing keeping me here was a job that I no longer have.”

“The only thing?” You questioned, hurt.

Something flashed in her eyes, but she looked away before you could figure out what it was.

“I have to leave. She could have me forcibly removed if I put up a fight. It’s her house.”

“Let me talk to her.” You insisted. “She’s my sister, she’ll listen to me. I can convince her to let you stay.” Your heart sank as she shook her head.

“No, you can’t.”

Hurt was replaced by anger at her unwillingness to find a solution.

“Why are you just giving up?” You demanded. It was almost a shout, but you didn’t care. You needed answers.

She only scoffed, grabbing her suitcase. You wrestled it away from her and shoved her back. Her knees caught on the edge of the bed and she fell back on the mattress. She growled as she made to stand up but you pushed her back again, this time straddling her so she couldn’t move. Maybe if you were thinking clearly, it would have gone a little differently, but your actions were motivated by pure instinct as you pinned her hands above her head, glaring down at her. She gazed at you unblinkingly. Challenging.

“Why do you care so much?”

Your grip tightened on her wrists. “You know why.” You hissed.

“Say it.”

You shook your head, releasing a shuttering breath as you leaned down to rest your forehead on her shoulder. You couldn’t.

“Please.” She said next to your ear, her voice a desperate whisper. “I just need to hear you say it.” Her chest hiccuped against yours, her uncaring facade shattering underneath you.

You lifted your head again to gaze into her eyes. They were glazed with tears unshed. Why was this so difficult? It shouldn’t be this difficult, you thought. You swallowed.

“I love you.” The words that had gone for so long unspoken slipped past your lips. It was so simple, so small, but it felt like a dam had been broken. A tear slipped from your eye and landed on her cheek, and you quickly wiped it away.

“Don’t leave, Julia. Promise me you’ll stay.”

She freed a hand from yours, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. Her face was so tender, it felt like your heart was melting into a puddle of chocolate in your chest.

“I promise.”

She dragged you down into a kiss, murmuring those words against your lips.

“I promise. I promise.”

The kiss deepened as she flipped the both of you over, straddling you. The kiss was hot and hungry. Consuming. Desperation to make up for almost a year of holding back fueled frantic hands as clothes were quickly thrown on the floor. She trailed wet kisses across your jaw, down your neck and then lower, to the swell of your breasts. Her tongue swirled expertly around your nipples, and you arched your back, needing more. Nails raked across your stomach, making you gasp. Maybe another day she would take her time, exploring every inch of you, savoring every nuance, but now she wasted no time in ripping off your panties and spreading your legs. She gazed hungrily at the sight, lips parted.

“Jesus.”

She dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you whimper. “How are you so wet already, baby?”

She leaned back over you again, nipping your ear and sucking that sweet spot on your neck. Her fingers were busy circling your clit, sending waves of burning pleasure coursing through you. You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in her shoulder.

She grabbed your hair and pushed your head back against the blankets. “No, you have to look at me. I wanna see those pretty eyes.” She leaned down and kissed your cheek, sighing against your skin.

Suddenly she dipped a finger into your entrance teasingly. You moaned.

“Oh please.” You said breathlessly.

“Please what?” She dipped her finger in again, torturously pulling back out. She was staring at you, her eyes dark with want, lipstick smudged and cheeks flushed. She was clearly just as needy as you were. You rolled your hips up towards her.

“Fuck me.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she plunged her fingers into you, pumping in and out slowly. Every stroke hit your g-spot, and combined with her thumb still massaging your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, and you reached out for something, anything to grab into the steady yourself as she brought you higher and higher, drawing the moans out of you with her skilled fingers. When she sped up her pace, that was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge. Your orgasm flooded over you, drowning you in bliss. You cried out from the intensity of it as she continued fucking you, wanting to wring out every last bit of pleasure you had to give. When it had finally run it’s course through you, you sagged back against the bed, reveling in a post-orgasmic glow. Julia slowly drew her fingers out of you and captured you in another kiss, one less starved but just as intense as they had been in the beginning. She pulled away and you smiled up at her.

“My turn?


	5. Imagine Julia getting jealous that you're spending time with Angie

“Where were you?” Julia, ever the alky soul, was pouring herself a glass of whiskey when you walked in the room, finally home after a day out.

“I was just hanging out with Angie.” You said as you took off your coat.

At this, she paused for a moment, open bottle in her hand whilst her glass lay only half full, for once not as a result of her drinking.

“Angie?” She resumed pouring. “So you two have nicknames for each other now.”

The tone of her voice was more coarse than usual, and you turned to look at her. “Is there… something wrong with that?” You asked.

“Oh no, no.” She capped up the bottle with a sigh, turning to lean back on the table. She wouldn’t look at you. “It’s cute, really. That you have names for each other. I mean, I’ve never heard you call me Julie. Or Jules.” She took a sip of her drink.

“I-”

“The two of you spend a lot of time together.” She interrupted. “Wouldn’t Elizabeth be upset? Fraternizing with her sworn enemy and all that.” She said everything with that slow lazy drawl of hers, but you could hear a sour tone underneath it. Venomous, almost. At first it didn’t make sense, but then it clicked. The bitterness in her voice was envy.

“Why are you so jealous?”

This finally caused her to look at you. A quick startled half glance followed by another, longer one.

“I’m not.”

“It sure seems like it.”

“Are you psycho-analyzing the psychiatrist?”

“It doesn’t take a doctor to see green eyes staring over the rim of that glass.”

She pointedly set the drink down on the table, fixing you with a glare. “Well since we’re so intuitive today, why don’t you tell me why it is that I’m so jealous.”

“I don’t know! Why would you be jealous at me hanging out with a friend?”

“A friend.” She repeated in a mocking voice. “Like I’m supposed to believe that’s all she is to you.”

Like the final piece of a puzzle fitting into place, it all became clear to you. Julia watched the look of realization wash over your face, and made for the door. She shouldn’t have been so careless, she didn’t want to hear what you would say. Surely, she thought, it would only be a spurn. Harsh words about how could she think she has the right to be jealous, how foolish it was for her to see you that way and how she could never compare to Angelique. She was surprised when your hand clamped down over her wrist, stopping her from leaving. She slowly turned back to look at you.

“Please spare me the speech.” She said in a small voice.

“Should I spare you the kiss too?”

Her gaze jerked up to meet yours, surprise shining in her eyes. Her lips parted to say something but you were already leaning closer, and after a split second of indecisiveness she had her hand in your hair, eagerly pulling you all the way in. A soft moan escaped her as your lips crashed together, and you pulled her closer, determined to show her she’d never have to be jealous again.


	6. Imagine Julia getting hungry before dinner's ready ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda nsfw, nothing really happens. Also she's a vampire in this one so slight blood trigger warning?

Of course, you thought, watching as the crimson liquid bubbled up on your finger. Of course you would cut yourself the one time you decided to make dinner. You usually left the job to Willy, content to contribute by doing dishes afterwards, but after everyone griped and groaned about his consistently dry pot roast, you volunteered to whip up something different. Cradling your hand to yourself to avoid getting blood on the food, you turned to go to the sink, only to be stopped short by Julia. Before you could react, she had you pinned against the counter, the rim pressing into the small of your back. Her hips dug into yours, and you had to bite your lip to stop any sound from coming out.

“Stop biting that fucking lip! God knows I want you enough as it is…” She lifted your leg and wrapped it around her waist, pressing harder as she nuzzled into your neck. Her teeth grazed dangerously along the sensitive skin there.

“I thought the smell of blood just made you hungry, not…” You didn’t finish as she took your hand, slowly licking the trail the blood had made as it dripped down your wrist. She watched you mesmerizingly as she did so, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from how dark her eyes were, dilated with want.

“It all just blurs together at this point, honey. I mean after all,” She adjusted her grip on you, lifting you up to sit on the counter, and you instinctively wrapped both legs around her. “Isn’t lust a form of hunger?”

In this new position, she had easy access to your chest, and she used it to her advantage. She covered you in wet, aggressive kisses, moving lower and lower, pulling the neckline of your shirt down slightly until she was alarmingly close to the hem off your bra. You allowed yourself to be caught up in her for a moment, but when you felt her teeth start to dig in you snapped to the present. You were sitting on the kitchen counter. Food was waiting to be served, people could walk in at any moment. You had told Elizabeth dinner was almost ready.

“Wait, wait. We can’t do this right now.” You pushed her away with some difficulty.

“Why not?” She growled the words out, and you felt it in your stomach.

“Because,” You said as you reluctantly pushed off another advance, “I have to finish making dinner. And eat. And we’re in the kitchen for christ’s sake.”

“I should think the kitchen is the perfect place for me to have my meal.” She said, fixing you with a hungry stare that made you heat up all over. However you were soon blushing for a different reason when another voice came from across the room.

“Are you lezzies gonna finish dinner or what?” Carolyn said. She had a look on her face that ranked somewhere between bored and grossed out. You supposed it was better than Elizabeth walking in.

You slid off the counter hurriedly. “Right, sorry! I’m just finishing right now. Please don’t tell your mother.”

She only rolled her eyes and left. You glared at Julia’s amused smirk. “Are you satisfied, now?”

“Oh, far from it.” She wrapped her arms around you from behind as you gathered plates. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” She practically moaned in your ear. You shrugged her off, ignoring the feelings she was giving you.

“After dinner.” You said resolutely.

“If you say so.”


	7. "I can't get you off my mind." (Julia/Elizabeth)

Elizabeth walked into the room to find Julia slouched on the couch, ever present glass of whiskey in her hand. The bottle itself was nearly empty, and she had only bought it last week.

"Honestly, Julia, do you have to drink quite so much? I swear I haven’t seen you completely sober in the time I’ve known you.” She said, plucking the bottle off the table and locking it up in a shelf. She didn’t bother with the glass in her hand.

“That,” Julia slurred. “Is a gross exaggeration.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly. “Is it? Well you have to at least admit, you do have an issue.” She watched Julia toss back the rest of her drink.

“Can you blame me? It’s the only thing that helps.”

“I suppose as a psychiatrist-”

“No. No, no… no.” Julia said. “Not that.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

Julia’s head lolled back, gazing at Elizabeth through heavily lidded eyes. She seemed to think a moment before speaking.

“I can’t get you off my mind.”

When Elizabeth only stared, she continued.

“That’s why I do this. It’s supposed to make me think less but really,” She heaved a sigh. “It just makes it worse.”

After a moment, Elizabeth moved to the couch, sitting next to Julia and removing the now empty glass from her hand. “You don’t need to do that, you know.” She said softly.

“Why?” Julia challenged.

“Because I think about you too.” With those words, she laced their fingers together. Even drunk, Julia knew what it meant, and a small smile graced her lips. Maybe she’d be drinking a little less in the future.


	8. "Don't cry." (Julia/Elizabeth)

Julia heard it from the hallway. A quiet sobbing coming from the sitting room. It was quiet and refined, as all things were with Elizabeth, but there was no mistaking it. Julia walked in, Elizabeth not noticing her presence until she had all but sat down on the couch next to her.

“What’s wrong?” She set her glass of whiskey down on the table, wrapping an arm around the blonde.

Elizabeth made a visible effort to pull herself together. “Oh, nothing just… stress, I suppose.”

“Just stress?” Julia prompted, her usually coarse voice now gentle and comforting.

Elizabeth tried to take a steadying breath. It came out short and ragged. “Our family, our name, our manor… it’s all fallen to ruin. I can’t help but feel its my fault. I’m supposed to take care of things.” Her voice cracked and more tears fell. Julia wiped them away.

“Don’t cry, Lizzie. It’s not anyone’s fault, most of all not yours. I mean honestly, you’re the glue that holds this crumbling shit show together.” Julia gestured to the rest of the room, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Thank you.”


End file.
